


Three quarters of dream, one of reality

by Oienel



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: F/M, Hand Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 04:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oienel/pseuds/Oienel
Summary: 3+1: Three times Jongdae dreams of your hand, one time he gets it.





	Three quarters of dream, one of reality

**Author's Note:**

> We all know because of whom I wrote this. And we all know because of which song. The problem is I heard the story and wrote this thing before checking the lyrics, so it doesn’t really match. And I wrote it, checked lyrics, decided to rewrite this, but in the end – I just like it so I didn’t, so there you go.

 “I can’t believe you dragged me out there for our date. We don’t get many of those, you know?” Jongdae was reeling. In his mind – rightfully so. Their schedules never matched. And when he said never he meant never. In his line of work he didn’t get a lot of free time, and to make matter worse she was a student, working late gastro shifts on top of that.

Of course their schedules never matched.

But he has finally found time. In few days they would start a new project, so he got what they call “a cool down period” after the last one. Perfect time to visit family, enjoy earned money, recharge gears for few months of hard work.

“I _am_ so sorry,” she whispered. It wasn’t directed at him, she was apologizing to couple sitting under the other wall. After they turned away, still looking offended, she threw him a stern stare. “Could you keep it down? We are in the _library_.”

“That’s my whole point,” he answered, moving closer to her, this time whispering as well. “Why are we in the _library?_ ”

Of course he knew why. But it didn’t make it easier to accept it. His free time coincided with her exam period. So if he wanted to see her, he didn’t have much of a choice, really. That’s how he found himself in the bright library, well after dark, with a stupid novel Kyungsoo forced into his hand few months ago, but he never got around to read it, behind a table covered with books and notes, next to her.

She turned back to her notes – all colorful and neat and perfect, and so unlike those he had back when he was studying. His life was so different now, but he could still remember how it worked, especially how intense were exams.

Even if Jongdae understood, it didn’t mean that he enjoyed the situation. But he appreciated being next to her. His book was mostly laying forgotten on the table, as he shamelessly stared at her, _his girlfriend_ , studying. She was engrossed in her studies, bent low, eyes not leaving her notes, but to him – she was as glamorous as always.

Especially when she threw her hair over her shoulder, to get it out of the way, exposing her neck.

Jongdae sighed and opened his book. He missed her smile – she heard his exhale, and she understood his feelings, but she couldn’t push her luck, exams were imprtant. So she just patted his thigh and went back to studying.

It was such a simple gesture. A nice reassuring pat, just a sign of connection. But at the same time it was so much more, as if this simple thing opened a drawer in his mind, that couldn’t be just closed, brought an itch that couldn’t be just scratched.

What would have happened if her hand just stayed there? Or better, if she caressed his thigh, hand sliding up and down his leg. What would have happened, if her fingers skimmed over his zipper, just a barest touch, pinpricks of warmth. Would be she daring enough to rub him through his jeans, there in the library, with their only shield being table and chairs?

Jongdae shifted uncomfortably in his seat, knowing that his line of thought wasn’t leading him anywhere. Or rather, it wasn’t safe. But he could still feel her lingering warmth, and either way he has already crossed the line.

His mind supplied him the image of her, just as focused on her studies as she was right now, but in his mind – she was only pretending to, her right hand under the table, popping the button of his jeans closed. Would he make a noise? He probably would, and she would probably send him one of those disapproving stares, maybe she’d even scold him ” _it’s a library”_ , as she slid her hand inside his trousers. Would she jerk him off fast, or would she go slow, rubbing the head in the circular motions.

Jongdae exhaled shakily, earning himself an eyebrows-furrowed stare.

“Are you ok?” She whispered, eyeing him suspiciously. “You are sweating.”

Was he supposed to answer – _it’s ok, I am imagining you jerking me off here, care to do it for real?_

Jongdae was bold and he never stood down from a challenge, but even that was too much.

_What would have happened if he came down his pants?_

 

*

 

“How are you exams going?” Of course it’s Junmyeon who asked. Jongdae did his best not to roll his eyes, but his girlfriend seemed perfectly happy to answer. And she did, going into all the details.

In the beginning he felt sorry for his plus one, but when she started to talk, he realized that Junmyeon was the one receiving the short stick there.

Jongdae turned his head to Minseok to bother him, hoping that his own conversation would draw out his girlfriend’s story.

It wasn’t him being rude, it was him protecting his sanity – he heard the same exact talk so many times over last few weeks, only changing after she wrote one of her exams, but basically being the same old story he heard every time she had exams.

Subjects may change, but her story does not.

He didn’t get a chance to bother Minseok, because she patted his thigh. Again. And her hand stayed on his thigh, as she turned to him, with a smile.

“Right, Jongdae?”

He had no fucking idea what she was talking about. None in the slightest, and the only thing he could focus on was her small hand on his thigh. Her warm, small hand, with those beautiful fingers, and _god_ she was expecting him to answer.

“Yes, absolutely.” He said, hoping that he wasn’t committing a perjury, but both she and Junmyeon seemed satisfied, and she went on to describe how her uni’s library work.

Her hand stayed on his thigh.

It was laying there, full - fingertips to wrist - contact.

His brain was having a real problem processing that. It was a simple gesture. A nice one, a warm one, lovely one. Possessive, but in this nice meaning – showing the world that they belong to each other.

But Jongdae’s brain wasn’t signaling _love_. It was signaling _her hand is so close to your dick – it’s a perfect time to think about it._

Even though official dinner with your group, and half of staff and their plus ones, wasn’t really a place for that.

But his mind just decided to screw the company and just play Jongdae a nice movie.

In this movie (Jongdae haven’t yet chosen the name, but something about touching seemed nice) she was _touching_ him. Her fingernails scraped along his inner thigh, warm hand cupping him through his suit pants. In this movie she was still talking to Junmyeon, quite indifferent to Jongdae’s suffering. She asked him another question, as she dragged the zipper down – it was only to cover this unmistakable sound. He stuttered though his answer, unable to focus with his dick in a loose circle of her fist. She wasn’t really moving her hand, probably not to alarm people sitting around them, but she could move her fingers freely, so she did.

“Jongdae?” Jongdae’s head snapped up, and he found her staring at him. “It’s a third time I am calling you.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat, and sat up straight, feeling hot under the collar and realizing he shouldn’t be walking around until he calmed himself down. “What was it?”

“You were just staring at the table, so I thought something happened.” Her hand was still on his thigh, and she had no idea.

He laughed awkwardly and shifted in his seat, his left hand dropping down to take her hand and tangle their fingers together.

He turned his head to Baekhyun and focused on his new hair – hoping it would help him in cooling down.

 

*  


“But I hate it.” Jongdae whined, knowing well enough that nothing was going to help him. Well yes, it was a common knowledge that he passionately despised driving a car, but what could he do, when his girlfriend didn’t even have a license. “Can’t we call for designated driver?”

“Sure.” She said, using that voice she reserved for moments when he was acting stupid. “Let’s call for designated driver, wait for him for devil knows how long, and then let’s pay him for the trouble, when my boyfriend, owner of this car, didn’t drink and there is nothing against him driving it.”

Jongdae blinked. There was some truth to her words. Why girlfriends are always so logical.

“I guess I will drive.” She smiled at him indulgently and turned on her heel to take seat. He didn’t sigh audibly, he did that in his mind,  but nonetheless he sat down behind the wheel.

He watched her for a moment, as she checked her make-up in the sun-shield mirror, and fixed her hair, throwing it over her shoulder, spreading her perfume in the car.

Jongdae loved her with every fiber of his body. Especially when she smiled at him, just like that – all happy and sexy. It was amazing that after all this time the smallest gesture could still make him fall for her – every time deeper.

He started the engine, and everything was going great, until she decided to help him, in her own special way.

She patted his thigh and yelled _let’s go!_

He drove into another car.

More like bumped into, just a smallest touch, but nevertheless it was embarrassing.

“What are you doing!” She screamed, so oblivious to the fact that she did it. Maybe not directly, but his mental image of her jerking him off was just too much to take.

He backed up and got out of the car. They didn’t talk as they waited for damaged car’s owner to arrive. Jongdae settled the problem quickly, being as honest as he could. The other driver didn’t take it lightly, but it was still better then fuming presence of his girlfriend.

On the way home she turned to him and asked a very difficult question.

“What has gotten into you lately?”

He shrugged, trying not to think about her hand tapping on door (clear display of irritation).

 

*

 

“Do you want to watch Netflix?” She asked coming into the room. His eyes jumped to her silhouette, but he immediately focused back on his game. He was spread all over the couch enjoying one of those primitive fighting games.

“Now?” He asked trying not to convey his dismay. Netflix was nice, it meant movie and cuddling, and stuff, but he was in the middle of the game and he didn’t feel like stopping.

She set down bowl of cheetos on the coffee table and flopped down next to him.

“Don’t want to?” She answered question with question, and he stole a glance at her wrinkling his nose.

“Not really.” He answered truthfully, but apologetically. She whined.

“My girl,” said Jongdae immediately, not believing he did that. Thankfully she laughed. She ate a cheeto and spoke up again.

“How about I challenge you, and if I win we watch Netflix, if you win, you still play?”

“It’s not really a challenge, since I will obviously win.” He said matter-of-factly, but she just smiled.

“I do have a secret weapon.” She deadpanned, and took the other pad.

He shrugged, but changed settings to include second player. They both chose character, and just when the game started countdown, he decided to ask.

“What kind of secret weapon you were talking about?”

She waved her hand in front of his face.

“Those fingers.”

The match was short. Mercifully short, considering how badly she beat him. It _was_ embarrassing.

To make it worse, she patted his thigh.

“Bad luck, eh?”

And after that she put on the movie she wanted to watch.

But Jongdae just couldn’t focus. Once again the thought of her fingers, her hand was driving him crazy. Like that time in the library, at the dinner, in the car, just now, he just wished she would really touch him. He did jerk off regularly, but it wasn’t the same.  He didn’t know what was the appeal, why his mind found it so arousing, but yes he was jerking off to thoughts of _her_ jerking him off.

Which was weird, because he knew how to ask for sex – he just didn’t know how to ask for _that_ type of sex. Which he may have or may have not put in a song.

“Oh for fuck sake.” Jongdae heard suddenly, snapping back to reality. He didn’t know for how long he was out, but judging from her irritation – long enough. “It’s not rocket science, you know?”

He was lost. Utterly lost, and he looked around searching for help, but inanimate objects are never really helpful, and _oh god her hand is on his thigh._

“Uhm… Right.” He said, his mind whirling, as he tried not to focus on her hand. Which she moved definitely-not-shyly up his leg, until she reached his crotch. She cupped him through his pants, and her hand was warm and solid and everything he imagined and more. He looked at her, eyes wide and lost.

She saw the question, before he gathered himself and asked it.

She rolled her eyes in the same circular motion she rubbed him through his sweatpants. He whimpered.

“You wrote a _song_ about hand jobs.” That was her only explanation, and if he was able to think clearly, he’d agree that was a valid point. But she was sliding her hand into his pants and he wasn’t nowhere near thinking clearly.

Her hand was soft and warm, just like he imagined, but it wasn’t as delicate as he thought it would be. It was smoother than his, and definitely smaller, but there was roughness to her touch. Ans she was still in advantage, because it was _her_ hand. Contrary to his dreams and daydreams, she wasn’t shy about it. That was her, always focused on the matter at hand and giving her all.

Which meant pulling his dick out, and using both hands.

Which in short terms was _fucking amazing_. When one hand was rubbing the shaft, the other rolled his balls. When one hand was circling around the head, the other one teased the underside. She just went on an adventure, really getting to know his penis with her hands.

And he loved every second.

His only regret was not lasting very long – but no one would blame him. In the end he was just living through his most persistent fantasy.

He came all over her right hand, and decided not to be embarrassed about that. He just stared at her in wonder, as she stared at her hand with badly concealed disgust.

“I love you.” He rasped, deciding that it might be time to stuff his dick back in his pants.

“Lovely,” she scoffed, still not looking at him. “You say it, because I gave you hand job.”

“Most amazing hand job, but yeah.” He said, feeling more alive than he was for last few weeks. He moved to kiss her, but she wrinkled her nose and evaded, by standing up to go to the bathroom. Having cleaned her hand she came back and stopped in the threshold.

“Are you feeling better?” She asked.

“I am feeling amazing, why?”

“Because for a number of times you spaced out, while imagining I was jerking you off in public. “He sputtered, but didn’t deny. It _was_ truth. “And all you had to do was ask.”

He laughed, and as soon as she sat down next to him, he threw his arm around her and brought her closer.

“I didn’t know, you’d be so willing.” He said, dropping his voice an octave lower, trying (and in his mind succeeding) to be sexy. She shook her hand.

“Jongdae,” she started slowly, as if she wanted to convey very important message,” I will _always_ be willing.”

 


End file.
